


Just One Night?

by PastPresentFiction



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:41:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22891180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastPresentFiction/pseuds/PastPresentFiction
Summary: A fantasy of meeting Sean Patrick Flanery in an almost empty bar, and striking up a friendship. And maybe something more gets sparked.
Relationships: Sean Patrick Flanery/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: I wrote this because I've been on a "hot guy in action movies" thing recently. And honestly, it wasn't supposed to go on this long, but-
> 
> I definitely DON'T own Sean Patrick Flanery (and his wife is EXTREMELY lucky, so sorry for envy, lust, and all that, girl), but who wouldn't want to take him out for a test ride (yes, I meant that as a pun, and I hate puns). Anyway, I don't expect this to be popular, and I hope that anyone who finds it and likes it, enjoys it.
> 
> And I would really probably do most of this, barring the thought that I could actually get naked in front of any hot movie star. I'm not THAT good. No comment on the embarrassing stories. And yes, these are shameless plugs for my other fanfics 
> 
> Thanks for taking the time. And I don't know if I'll go further with this one. It was just for me, but I share EVERYTHING.

My inspiration for this fic...the 53 year old version (just in case you were wondering)

I sat at the bar of the hotel that the various Hollywood studios had chosen to book me into. Being in Los Angeles, for the first time as a best selling author that said studios wanted to convince me to sell the movie rights of my books to was quite the experience. This was the first night I had managed to beg off an extravagant, over lengthy dinner where inevitably I would be seated between a screenwriter who assured me he would do magical things with my material and a studio higher up who kept the price tag going up. Every studio, every screenwriter, knew that THEY were the ones that should adapt my books for the “big screen”.

Why had I argued with my agent, Andi, to come instead of her again? Right, because these were MY books, MY scenes, MY baby. And weird though it may sound, given what some authors and their agents do, I wanted the substance to be right, money be damned. I trusted Andi, but she was my agent, and probably shopping for a swimming pool right now.

My first night in what felt like months, but was more like a week, all to myself. And I spend it reading in a mostly empty bar. Mid-week, and an upscale, but out of the way hotel, so there had been only three other customers when I first came in. Now it was just me, the bartender, and a guy in a booth all by himself. I barely paid attention to either of them. I had a vodka neat in front of me, a book, and quiet music keeping me occupied. What more could a girl ask for?

“Sean!” I heard the bartender call out, I suspected to the lone booth occupant. “You need another?”

“Nah,” the soft voice with a hint of an accent said.

“And you, ma’am?” I cringed. Forty-two years old and I was a ma’am now, ugh.

“No, thank you.” I answered, wondering if I should head back to my suite.

“Just let me know, you two.” He said, loud enough for the two of us could hear.

I glanced up and noticed that the bartender had pulled out his phone and was leaning against the back counter. Fair, since it was an extremely slow night. I glanced at the booth and nearly gasped. Sean-I realized, was actor Sean Patrick Flanery.

Internally I forced myself to calm down. If I remembered correctly, he was married. Yeah, sue me, in a weak moment after watching “Girl” I Googled him. Not just married, but married to a model and had several kids. Yeah, I’m good. He’s completely off limits.

Sean stood up from his seat in the booth and made his way to the bar. Carrying his glass, he sat down on a stool a few feet away. The bartender looked up from his phone and grinned.

“Ready for another?” He asked, reaching for a bottle.

Sean shook his head. “Boring over there alone. And in my rooms, and-” he ran a hand over his head.

The bartender nodded. “Understandable.”

They began talking about sports and I took my last swallow of my drink. Sports talk-time for me to go. I grabbed a bill out of the back pocket of my jeans and dropped it on the bar.

“Oh shit,” Sean said, noticing me sliding down from the tall stool. “Don’t let our guy talk run you off, darlin’” There it was that slight southern accent she’d heard earlier.

I smiled. “It’s OK. I should head up and get back to work anyway.”

“Now does that sound like fun?” He asked, blue eyes crinkling with a smile. “Stay, chat.”

I considered his offer. Upstairs I had my laptop and endless edits for my next book. Down here-Sean Patrick Flanery. Biting my lip, he took a look at my consternation and chuckled. “It’s not that hard of a decision. I’m sure work can wait.”

“What if my work was-open heart surgery?” I asked, tilting my head, even though I knew it was ridiculous.

Both men grinned and shook their heads. “In your rooms? Unless you’re a serial killer, not happening.” The bartender laughed.

Hoisting the total of my 5’½” frame onto a closer stool, I looked dead serious when I offered, “Mob doctor. How else are the criminals supposed to have adequate healthcare?”

Sean smiled. “Is dat so?” He said, sounding a lot like a certain Saint he once portrayed.

My eyes widened in mock horror. “Oh dear-am I in the presence of divine retribution?” Putting a hand to my heart, I said with an emphasis on my southern roots and long ‘i’ sounds, “I only help them live through illness. I’m not one of them.” I blinked my eyes in a horrible mimicry of southern belles flirting.

“Can’t get away from that one.” He laughed. Holding out his hand, he said, “Sean, but I guess you know that already.”

“Jessa Halmand,” I answered, shaking his hand. It was his turn to look surprised. A glance at the bartender showed his own, along with a silent mouthed, “oh shit.”

“You wrote-” Sean started, but I waved him off.

“That’s me.” I smiled at the bartender. “You OK?”

He nodded. “My entire family has read your books. I’m Mike, by the way.”

I held out my hand and he shook it. “Nice to meet you, Mike.” Sean was staring at me with a strange look on his face. “You alright?”

He swallowed. “Your book jacket-” He started.

I laughed. “Has an altered photo of me.”

“You’re green and have scales.” He said, blinking.

“Don’t forget my tail.” I grinned. “It’s an inside joke. From my chatroom days.”

He shook his head. “That’s not fair.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m an author. What do my looks matter?” I’d had this disagreement with Andi, my publisher, and God knew who else.

Mike was nodding at Sean as they shared another weird look. “Not fair.” They both said.

“Let me ask the two of you this-did the green, scaly with a tail visage that was printed on the jacket in any way make you enjoy the books less?” This always worked. They shook their heads. “Then, why does it matter?”

“I get noticed if I come out of the bathroom with my fly down and vomit on my shirt. People still want selfies.” Sean grumbled. “You get to fly under the radar and be a best selling author. Not. Fair.”

Mike looked at me and I raised an eyebrow. “Fly down, vomit?” I asked. “Story.”

Sean shook his head. “Nope. You have no commiserating stories to share about a random, embarrassing fan encounter.” He took a drink out of his glass. “If you haven’t got mutual sharing abilities, I’m not telling.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Poor guy. “Would any embarrassing story do?” I offered.

Another look between the two men. Why does Mike get a vote, I wondered. “Depends.”

“On?” I asked, thinking I already knew the answer.

“How embarrassing of a story it is.” He said with a wicked smile.  
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, but I need another drink.” Mike complied, grabbing my glass and the money I had left on the bar. He poured me another, and after a healthy shot, I started. “Here goes. When I was having a mutually beneficial relationship with my best friend’s brother-we got caught.”

They both looked disappointed. “Not that embarrassing.” Sean ruled.

“Did I say I was finished?” I asked. “By the local cops. In a bar parking lot. Naked and having-”

“Mutually beneficial relations?” Mike grinned, using my own words to haunt me.

“Yep.” I agreed.

“Shit, pretty damn embarrassing.” Sean said, smiling.

“Wait!” Mike said, hand up. “Ticket or arrest?”

My turn to grin. “Neither. I knew the two cops. Occupational hazard at the time.” Then to truly cement it, “One told me later that he wished he could have ‘tagged in’.”

Both inhaled deeply. I took another drink from my glass. A look at the two of them, I noticed another shared look. “Verdict?” I asked.

“Embarrassing,” Mike said, nodding.

Sean looked at me with scrutinizing eyes. “Don’t know about that. You don’t look very embarrassed.”

“Did I forget to the part where they told us to pack up and leave, but I asked if we could finish first?” I could feel my face burn with the memory. Retroactive embarrassment.

Sean shook with laughter. “Yeah, you might have forgotten to mention that bit.”

Mike laughed. “That drink is on the house.” He pointed at my drink. “Hell, you want the bottle?”

I shook my head and raised an eyebrow at Sean. “Your turn.”

He sighed. “OK. I went out during one of the film shoots for a certain movie that you are clearly familiar with and let’s say had too much to drink.” His eyes pinched, obviously remembering bad decisions made that day. “Way too much. Had a friend snickering at my horrible state. The dick wouldn’t even help me to the toilet. Threw everything I had ever eaten up. Didn’t realize that after I’d taken care of other business, I didn’t zip up. Looked and felt like complete shit. Exited the bathroom and there they were-three coeds who ran up, without asking permission, grabbed me and took a selfie. Vomit on the t-shirt, fly down, looking like death.”

I shook my head, feeling a combination of the urge to laugh with the urge to slap entitled shits like those in the back of their heads. “That sucks.” I said offering my glass to him for a commiserating toast. We clinked glasses. “Also one of the reasons I don’t regret my book jacket photo.”

He looked into my eyes. “I have a feeling you have never made a bad drunk decision in your life.”

Raising an eyebrow, I said. “Presumptuous much?”

“You are way too-” He searched for the word. “Together.”

I snorted. “Yep, presumptuous.” I confirmed. “I’ve made my share of shitty drunk choices over the years.”

His turn for the raised eyebrow. “Like?”

Why was I sharing this crap with these two? Boredom. Loneliness.

“Oh, let me think-” I tapped my lip. “There was the memorable time when I was celebrating my and another bestie’s 21st birthdays, and propositioned a former flame in front of my current boyfriend.” They started to scoff. “And when said former flame reminded me of my boyfriend, I shrugged and said he could watch.”

Sean, unaware of where I was going with the last part had attempted a drink from his glass. When I finished, he spewed his drink across the bar. Mike reached for a towel and handed it to him. “You alright, Sean?”

“Fuck.” He said, face red. “You could give a little warning when you’re about to drop a bomb like that.” He used the towel to mop himself up.

“You wanted a bad drunk decision. I gave you one.” I shrugged. “I’m also pretty sure I got pregnant with my son that night, by my boyfriend. Or as I like to call him, my ex husband.”

Sean raised his eyes back to mine. “Unwanted pregnancy?”

“Unwanted asshole of a husband.” I smiled. “I’ve been happily divorced for 20 years. Yay!” I raised my fist in the air. “And my son is an amazing adult.”

He smiled. “Good.” Raising his glass again, he shot me a warning glance. I took a sip of my own, to show I was being good.

Mike was wiping down the wet bar and looked between the two of us. “Well, I hate to do it, but-”

“Closing time?” I asked, hopping down from the stool. “This was fun! Thank you boys!” I grabbed my book. “Might see you before I leave, Mike. And Sean, it was a pleasure.” I smiled and turned to walk away.

“Let me walk you to your room.” Sean said, catching up to my short legs easily. “Make sure you get back safe.”

“Elevator, two steps,” I answered, smiling at the directions I was about to take. “I think I’ll be OK. Besides, I’m sure you need to get home.”

“Home is an elevator, three steps.” He said, smiling down at me. “I’m staying here too.”

Questions popped to my lips, but I swallowed them. Not going home to the wife and kids? Maybe he’d had too much to drink, I thought. Shrugging my assent, I walked with him to the set of elevators nearest the bar. Hitting the up button, we waited. The silence wasn’t as awkward as it could have been. I had just given him and Mike two of my most embarrassing stories, and both involved sex. Not much to be awkward after that.

The elevators dinged open and I was happy to see it was empty. After what he’d told me in the bar, I thought he should have some peace. We stepped inside and both hit the ‘4’ button. I giggled. “Neighbors? That’s funny.”

He grinned back at me. “Isn’t it though.” The doors slid shut and I realized that, unlike the bar, we were in more enclosed space now. I could feel the heat of him near me, and wondered why he was standing so close, but decided it didn’t matter. Married. Model. Kids.

As the elevator raised silently through the floors, I started to feel a little weird about the quiet. “So-” I started.

“Yeah?” His voice was close enough that I felt my hair move.

I glanced up at him and realized he was very close. Not pressed against me, but close enough to be almost intimate. I swallowed and looked away. “Nothing.”

“Jessa,” he said, drawing my attention back to him. “Can I come into your room and talk some more with you?”

I nodded and the doors opened. I walked with a little self consciousness as he walked behind me. I’m curvy and my jeans are a bit tight. My sweater is as well, and not long enough to cover what I thought must look to him like a huge ass. Ugh, why hadn’t I ever thought about losing the rest of that “baby weight”? Shaking myself internally, I reminded myself: married, model, kids.

“Here we are,” I said, pulling my room key from my back pocket, I slid it into the slot. The green light lit and I turned the knob. He followed me inside and I tossed my book on the coffee table in the living area of my suite. I sat down on the sofa and wasn’t all that shocked when he sat next to me.

“Thanks for letting me come in with you.” He said, looking at me. “I can’t face my set of rooms right now.”

I bit my lip, wondering if my curiosity was allowed. “Why not?”

“They’re empty and cold. And lonely. And-” He groaned and leaned back against the sofa.

“Sean?” I asked, worried about him. “Why are they empty, cold, and lonely?” I wanted to ask: Why not go home? Married. Model. Kids. Remember?

“My wife and I are separated. Which is fine by me.” He said, glancing down at me. “It’s just I haven’t been on my own for a long time.”

Ah, I thought. He’s sad and alone. And I’m a distraction from his loneliness. “Why don’t you call up friends? Or go to their houses?” I’m a small town girl at heart, this is what my people do.

Another groan. “Because, she and I agreed that we weren’t getting a divorce, it’s too much of a tabloid nightmare. We have an agreement, if one or the other meets someone, then we’ll go back to the papers we filled out, but haven’t filed. Saving face.” He said, eyes pinched. “Can’t go to a friends’. Can’t tell a friend.”

This made no sense to me. Everyone has a friend they trust implicitly. “You don’t have anyone you can trust? Surely you have at least one friend that won’t say anything.”

He looked at me sadly. “I do, but that’s one of her conditions. She doesn’t want her image tarnished. Saving face.”

Oh, I’d assumed it was his face that needed saving. “Gotcha.” I said nodding. “So, just me, and?”

“Mike.” Sean said, smiling. “He’s a good guy. Noticed me hanging downstairs on the slow days, and we started talking. He’s a rarity in LA, doesn’t give a damn about celebrities. Doesn’t give a shit about tabloid fodder.”

“Closing time must suck for you then.” I said, shaking my head. “And that’s why you followed me up like a lost puppy.” I said, understanding.

His eyes snapped to mine. “That’s not- shit is that what you think?” He groaned again. His head smacking into the back of the sofa.

“Sean?” I asked, shocked by his, whatever this was.

He sat up, and took my hand. “I’m not here because closing time sucks. I’m here because you’re hilarious. You’re open and real. I didn’t want to say goodnight to you.”

“Oh.” I said, looking down at my hand in his. “That’s sweet.”

He chuckled. “Sweet? Darlin’, you had me hooked with the first story you told.”

“Hooked?” I said, raising my face to look back into his.

“Hooked,” he said, leaning toward me and cupping my cheek. He was about to kiss me when I stood up.

“Hooked.” I said, understanding. “Sean, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I stepped out of his reach. He was rebounding and I was not a rebound. “You’ve just got out of a very long term relationship, well not out of it, but you know.” Shit, when did I stop being verbose? “You’re not thinking straight here.”

He stood up and looked at me like someone might at a scared animal. “Jessa, my relationship has been over for a pretty long time. My moving in here was to save my house from devolving into a frozen wasteland. We don’t talk. We don’t do anything together. I couldn’t stay there and feel like I was moving forward.” I nodded, but stayed out of reach. “It’s not like I haven’t tried to find another woman for companionship. They all seem to want me for-”

“Fame?” I asked, thinking I understood some of it. He nodded.

“You’re the only woman I’ve met, since I started acting, that doesn’t seem to care.” He took a step toward me. “You sat in that bar and told us stories that I found pretty hilarious, and you joked along with us. You didn’t flirt, you didn’t put yourself out there. Do you know how many women would have already been in my lap, once I asked to come in here?”

I chuckled imagining. “Yeah, not quite that desperate, thanks.” Sean’s eyes looked pained. “No! I didn’t mean- shit.” I moved to him and retook the hand he’d held mine with. “Hey, I didn’t mean I’d have to be desperate to touch you. I just meant desperate for attention and you know, fame by association.”

He looked down at me, and realized I took his hand. He squeezed mine. “Thanks for that. I swear, I must sound crazy.”

I pulled him back to sit on the sofa. “Not crazy, just lonely.” We sat next to each other, but only held hands. “I get it, I’ve been single for 20 years. You either get used to it, or you don’t.”

“20 years,” he said, shocked. “How the Hell has no one snatched you up?”

I laughed. “For the first 14 years, I was a single, stay-at-home mom focused on one thing-my son. He’s on the spectrum.” I waited to make sure he understood. A nod told me he did. “He didn’t really like change, and change would have been adding someone he wasn’t comfortable with, so I didn’t.” I shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal. And then the last six, I guess I’m used to being on my own. I’ve tried to date-not my scene anymore. Though honestly, it never was.”

“Celibate for 20 years?” He sounded shocked. I laughed harder.

“God no!” I snorted. “No relationships doesn’t equal no sex, Sean.” I rolled my eyes, he was precious.

“Ah, the best friend’s brother?” He said, putting two and two together. I nodded.

“And others.” I shrugged again. “Sex, I got a good handle on. Relationships, not so much.”

He contemplated that. “So you’re good with sex without the extras?” Shit, not what I wanted to put in his mind. Jessa, keep your fucking philosophies to your self.

I swallowed and answered, “Yes, but not with just anyone.” I shut my eyes and cursed myself, not helping. “I mean, I have to know them really well, and trust them.” Better, God I hoped so.

“Ah,” he said, sitting back. “How long are you in LA for?”

I smiled, great, back on safe track. “Two more weeks. Seems like every studio, indie and mainstream, wants to wine and dine me.” I groaned. “I can’t take many more of those drawn out dinners.”

He grinned down at me as I threw myself against the back of the sofa. “Your books are amazing, no wonder.” He was thinking about something, you could almost see the wheels turning. “Two more weeks? So we could keep getting to know each other?”

Damnit, I thought, foot in mouth again. “Well, sure. Between the horrible attempts to convince me that they’re THE studio to make a film based on my books, and the editing I have to do on the next, we can keep chatting.” Please don’t push. I can’t imagine getting naked in front of you and I’d probably die if you dropped yours in front of me, I was thinking.

“Good,” he said, raising our hands to his mouth and kissing my knuckles. “Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?”

I tried to gather my thoughts. Did he just kiss my hand like a movie hero? Yep. Shit. Tomorrow, what did I have to do tomorrow? “Edits, and dinner with ---Studio at 8.”

He contemplated this. “How long do you work on editing?”

“As long as I feel up to it,” shit, Jessa honesty again. “Usually it takes me an hour or two. I have to get back into what I’ve written and work through what the notes are. You know this- Didn’t you write a book?”

Another smile, Jesus, talk about not being fair. “That I did. Have you read it?”

Smirking at him, I nodded. “That I did.” Repeating his phrasing. “It was really good.”

“High praise.” Sean said, giving my hand another squeeze.

“I thought I read that you were thinking of making it into a movie?” I said, quirking an eyebrow.

He nodded. “Finding the same problem as you, on a smaller scale. It’s hard to know who I trust with the book, you know?”

Did I, I thought. “Yeah, I can’t seem to get the idea through to the studios that I don’t care about money, I care about authenticity.” I shrugged again, “Apparently that’s unusual here.”

Sean laughed. “Tell me about it! Every screenwriter wants to tell me how my characters should act. I wrote them, pretty sure I already know.”

We both laughed at the stupidity. “Before I wrote the first book, or at least before it was published, I wrote fanfiction.” I admitted, he looked at me curiously. “Don’t judge, we all start somewhere.”

“No judgement.” He said, smiling. “Curious about what kind you wrote is all.”

I laughed. “The usual. Harry Potter, Vampire Diaries. Did a few lesser known movies with Chris Evans in them. Oh, and one CSI.” He grinned.

“Really?” He looked thoughtful. “What was the one you did of Harry Potter about?”

“Which one?” I asked, again with honesty.

He raised an eyebrow. “How many did you do?”

I cleared my throat feeling embarrassed. “Harry Potter? Five.”

Sean whistled. “Damn, that’s a lot of creativity.”

“Not really, I just put new characters into another author’s world. Should feel guilty, but I don’t. I know there are fanfics about my own books.” I smiled, I had looked after all.

“So-” He said, bringing me back to his original question.

“One is about my character and Lucius Malfoy.” I saw him raise an eyebrow. “One is about my character and separate relationships with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.” He added a grin. “One is about my character and Severus Snape.” He bit his lip. “Another is about my character and Remus.” He turned to watch me closer. “And the last is about my character and a triangle between Remus and Severus.”

“Ah.” He said, clearing his throat and shifting slightly. “Are these children’s stories?”

I laughed hard, poor precious angel of a man. “Do you have any understanding of fanfiction?” asked, through my chuckles.

He shook his head. “Norman told me to steer clear after someone mentioned it at a Con.”

I nodded, totally understanding. “Yeah, that’s safe, for you.” He raised an eyebrow. “You really don’t know?” He shook his head. “There’s a LOT of slash fic about you and-” His confusion was clear. Shit. “Slash fic is when people pair two male characters together.” His eyebrows raised. “Your character and Norman’s from-”

“WHAT?” He yelled. “We played brothers.” He cringed and I laughed. Truly too innocent for my world.

“Yeah, twincest came out of you two.” I giggled when he looked more grossed out. “Hey, I didn’t write or read it. Not into that type of thing, personally.”

He shook his head, trying to get the image of him and Norman touching each other inappropriately out of his head no doubt. I shouldn’t torture him, but… “It gets worse when they add, Smecker in.” He closed his eyes and groaned. I giggled again. “Sorry?”

“Jesus Christ.” He put his head in his hands, still trying to get the image I planted out of his mind, I was sure.

“You going to be OK, Sean?” I asked, feeling a little bad now.

He glared at me, but there was no heat in it. “You just told me there are stories on the internet about me and Norman-”

“And Willem Dafoe.” I reminded him, forgetting I was supposed to be making sure he was OK.

He squinted his eyes shut. “Yeah, and him, doing shit to each other. I’m feeling like I shouldn’t have asked you ANYTHING about your online stories.”

“Fanfiction.” I corrected him. “I can’t make money off of them, so they don’t really count.” I grinned as he glared again. “Sorry. Your original question was whether my stories were for children. NOPE.” I left it hanging there.

“You and Snape?” He said, looking at me up and down.

“My CHARACTER and Snape.” I corrected him again. “I bear no resemblance to the characters I write.” He raised an eyebrow. “Aside from our height. I can’t write tall people, since I’m not one.” I smiled.

He leaned back again. “So your CHARACTER and Snape, what do they get into?”

I licked my lips, shit, back to that. “A little of this, a little of that.” I said, hoping he’d get the hint.

“No.” He said, shaking his head. “First of all, where’s the woman who shared THOSE stories downstairs? Second of all, no judgement.”

I pouted. “Fine. One of the stories is about Voldemort-” He gave a mocked gasp and I elbowed him. “And Bellatrix Lestrange’s daughter and Snape.” He raised an eyebrow. “She’s his student, but ONLY when she comes of age, she’s given to him as a prize of sorts for killing Dumbledore.”

“A prize?” He asks, voice low. Fuck, shit, ass.

I nodded, licking my dry lips. “Yeah, they’re in love, but haven’t declared it, and Voldemort hasn’t claimed her for his daughter so Snape is sort of protecting her.” Suddenly I suck at summarizing my own stories, great.

“And they?” He said, wishing for me to continue. Fuck it, I thought, I stood up and walked to where my tablet was. I opened the app and pulled up the story.

“Here, read it.” I handed it to him. He took it and patted the sofa so I’d sit back down. I did and waited. He got to the end of the first chapter and looked up, confused. “There’s more, swipe left.” He nodded and went back to the story. I stood up and grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. Coming back I smiled as I saw he was engrossed. I sat his bottle on the coffee table and sat down with mine, taking a long drink.

I felt him inhale and realized he got to the engagement. I turned to watch him. Rarely did I see anyone read my stories, it was fascinating, and nerve wracking. His lip got bitten and another gasp, and I realized he’d come to the honeymoon. This was really interesting, he kept reading and was finished in no time. He turned to me and I reconsidered this exercise. His pupils were blown wide and he looked far too interested in me. Shit dammit.

“Well?” I asked, kicking myself internally. Damn me and my need for praise.

He took a deep breath, hopefully calming himself, and grabbed his bottle of water. He drank half of it in one gulp. Hot then, I thought. “That was-” He sat back again, considering his words. “Have you ever considered writing erotica?” I laughed.

“No, I’ll leave that to the Fifty Shades chick.” I said, taking another drink.

“That story was- I didn’t know what to expect.” He said, and I realized that I just threw him into the deep end of fanfiction, well without twincest and slash fic.

“Want me to show you one about the movie?” I knew he knew what I meant. He started to shake his head, but I clarified. “One that I liked, no weird stuff between brothers.”

He bit his lip again and curiosity overtook him, he sighed and nodded. I took the tablet and found the one I liked, it was a two parter, but I thought if he could get through the first, he might be able to see that not all fanfiction about his most cult classic movie wasn’t horrific to him. I handed it back and watched him again.

Sean began reading and once again he was engrossed, sighing occassionally at the inevitable spelling or grammar mistakes that came with fanfiction. I felt like defending the author, but he kept reading and I didn’t want to interrupt. He finished quickly and sat back thinking.

“Well?” I asked again, starting to come to the defense of the writer.

“That’s one of your favorites?” He asked, looking at me. “It’s based mostly on MY character.” Shit, fuck, ass. Forgot that.

“It was well written.” I said, blushing so I knew he knew. Dammit. “I should have warned you, fanfiction isn’t always perfect in it’s execution, mostly the stories themselves are just amazing.”

He stopped me with his hand on my thigh. His other touched my still hot cheek. “Blushing. What’s got you so embarrassed, Jessa?”

I gulped, me and my big- “Nothing, I just felt bad when you sighed a few times. It's a sympathy embarrassment. For the other author.” Come on, God, give me a break here.

His thumb ran across my bottom lip and I looked up at him. His pupils were dilated so far I was surprised I could still see any blue. “I don’t think so, Jessa.” He kept eye contact as he leaned in and brushed my lips with his own.

Dear fucking Lord. I tried to keep still, to not react, but Sean was freaking kissing me. Ugh. I made a tiny sound in the back of my throat, hoping he didn’t hear it, but the next thing I knew I was straddling his lap. I couldn’t imagine how that happened, but my hands were curled into his hair and his tongue was suddenly in my mouth and I couldn’t fucking think at all. And his hands, one on my hip and the other tangled in my hair holding me to him, not that I had any thought of moving. I could feel his arousal under his pants and through my jeans. Dear God, stop, Jessa STOP. I pulled back and dammit did he look amazing. My forehead fell forward to touch his. Wishing I had the will or urgency to move.

“That kiss-” He said, sighing. “Was amazing.” I looked into his eyes and saw the sincerity there. Really, God? Really?

I licked my lips and finally found the will to try to move off of him, but those hands held me tight. “Sean.” I said, trying to bring sense into the room. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

“And why not?” He asked, allowing me to sit back enough to look at him, but not leave his lap. Clearly I had no willpower.

I cleared my throat. “For a vast amount of reasons.” I said, vague, but hopeful.

That damn eyebrow of his raised again. “Like?”

I wanted to roll my eyes and groan, but first I had to think. “You’re still married. To a model. With kids.” I said, going hard into my mantra.

He sighed, but still didn’t release me. “A model that doesn’t want to be married to me, and neither do I want to be to her. As for the kids, they’re my world, but they have been told, Jessa.”

I finally rolled my eyes. “OK, how about this, I’m ME, and you have had sex with a MODEL.” Hoping the emphasis was clear this time. Jesus, I really didn’t want to try to take this further. He’s an adonis, I look like a normal 42 year old mother who writes and EATS.

He laughed, the bastard. I really tried to pull away, but those hands were like iron. Oh, yeah, the martial artist. “Stop, I’m not laughing at you. I’m relieved. I thought you just really hated the idea of ME.” He sighed and cupped my cheek again. “I like that you’re YOU. I had the model, yeah, and look how well that turned out. Ego and narcissism got me nowhere.” He pulled my face back to his and let our foreheads touch. “You’re beautiful and REAL, Jessa. You’re funny. You write things like the books you’re known for and that fanfiction, dear God. Have you read it?”

My turn to chuckle. Did I read it? Who did he think I wrote it for? “I read it, Sean.”

“Then you know how sexy that was. And then, your favorite story based on MY character. Jesus.” He looked into my eyes. “Find me attractive, darlin’?”

“Have you seen you?” I asked in astonishment. “That’s an unfair question. You’re-” I closed my eyes. “Sean, you admitted that you’ve tried to date. It isn’t just your fame, babe, it’s-” I pulled back and gestured at him in totality. “I mean I imagine you’ve seen yourself naked-” Shit fuck shit. The burning blush was back. His fingers felt my cheek and smiled. “Not what I meant, just you’re hot.” Lame, Jessa, lame.

He chuckled. “Let me get this all straight. You like the way I kiss, yes?” I nodded, rolling my eyes. “You find me ‘hot’?” Another eyeroll and nod. “You’ve clearly thought of a naked version of me.” I closed my eyes as the blush burnt again. “Hey, look at me.” I did, and he was smiling, not cocky but sweetly. “Why can’t this happen, Jessa?”

“I live on the other coast and you-” I started.

“Am mobile.” He said, ending another argument against. “Planes exist, I imagine you took one to get here.” His turn for an eyeroll.

I sighed. “If we even get past a night, Sean.” I pulled up straight, and confused myself when I felt him against me again. Shit. “I’m not great with commitment, and I’m not sure you want or need one.”

He laughed. “Well, I definitely want to keep you.” I stared at him in shock. “What? You’re adorable. And I feel like I’ve said it a lot tonight, but you’re funny and open. Honest. It’s not something people find everyday.”

I thought about it. Say it was a fling. Would a normal woman pass up a chance to have a night with Sean? No, but I’m not normal. He was gorgeous, funny, and I liked talking to him. Hell, just torturing him about fanfic was a joy alone. What’s the worst thing that could happen? He’ll see me naked, I thought. And? If he gets all grossed out, then he’s a dick. And I will feel like a blob of grossness. Shrugging internally, I realized that Sean was watching me carefully.

“Well?” He asked, mimicking me with the stories.

“What the hell.” I said, leaning in and recapturing his mouth. Our mouths moved together like we’d been doing it forever. I nipped at his bottom lip and he moaned. Smiling I let the kiss deepen. I knew he’d be an amazing kisser, I mean I watched his movies and some things can’t be faked.

Sean’s hands fell to my hips and pushed me down further onto his lap, letting me feel exactly what I was doing to him and it was my turn to moan. I pulled back and he brushed my hair from my face. “Jessa,” my name came out as a hiss when I rocked against his hardness. “Fuck, darlin’, let’s take this-” He didn’t finish, just grasped my hips in his hands and stood. How the hell did he lift me? My legs went around his waist, locking myself in place just in case.

My suite must have been the same as his because he found the bedroom with no issues. Opening the door he took me to the bed and sat me on the edge. He lowered himself to the floor and removed my ballet flats, tossing them over his shoulder. Then he slid his hands up my ankles, calves, knees, and to my thighs. Swallowing, he moved his thumbs to the waistband of my jeans. I smiled down at him and popped the button and released the zipper. I lifted my hips and he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and tugged them down until they were tossed behind his shoulder to join my shoes. I licked my lips and laughed when he took in my panties.

“I wasn’t planning this, remember?” I told him. Plain black cotton underwear. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking I’d be picking up a star and taking him to bed. “I feel a little like Briget Jones right now.”

“Hugh Grant it is,” he chuckled. “Though these aren’t ‘scary granny panties’.” He moved his hands to my waist, and tugged at my sweater. “This has to go.” I raised my arms and he pulled it over my head, I fought the urge to hide my belly. “Wow.” He whispered, taking in me sitting on the bed in my bra and panties. They matched, but I was worried about the whisper and didn’t meet his eyes. “Hey,” he said, forcing my chin up so I’d look at him. “You look amazing.”

I raised an eyebrow, but didn’t contradict him. “And you have all of your clothes on, should I?” I stood up and pushed him so he sat in my place. “Turnabout is fair play, right?” I smirked as he nodded. Biting my lip I considered where I wanted to start. Why not repeat what he’d done? I lowered myself to the floor, taking his shoes off first. Looking up at him from beneath my lashes, I saw his chest heave. Oh, I thought, being on my knees looking up. Very submissive and would make most men think about- my mouth watered. Later, stay on task. I didn’t toss his shoes over my shoulder. They were bigger and the thump would wake up the downstairs guests. Next I ran my hands up his legs, the same course he took with me, smiling as he inhaled deeply. “You ok up there, Sean?” I asked, moving my hands to the waist of his jeans. He nodded, licking his lips. I didn’t wait for him to unbutton and unzip his jeans. I ran my hands along his waist until I found the button on my own. Popping it open, I stared into his eyes as I slowly unzipped his pants. I bit my lip and ran my fingers inside the opening, watching him take another deep breath. “Hips up?” I asked, and he delivered, letting me tug the jeans from him. My teeth worried my bottom lip as I rose high enough to reach the hem of the t-shirt he was wearing. I gently pulled it up and over his head, this time tossing it. “Hmm.” I said, taking in the very hot man sitting in his boxers on the edge of my bed. My hands found his stomach and ran over his abs. Watching as he let out a hiss of air. “What do you want, Sean?”

“You.” Simple and done. I stood and moved between his spread knees, making me a little taller than him for once. I took his hands from the bed and put them on my hips.

“Then take me.” I whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

“What do you want, Sean?” 

“You.” Simple and done. I stood and moved between his spread knees, making me slightly taller than him for once. I took his hands in mine and put them on my hips.

“Then take me.” I whispered.

His blue eyes looked up into my green ones and taking a deep breath, he pulled me to him. My head dipped and our lips met. Not the fevered kiss from before, this one was slow, careful testing the waters. Learning every curve, dip, and taste of one another. My hands moved to his neck and teased the hair there. His hands left my hips and moved to the back of my thighs, urging me to move back onto his lap. Settling onto him, with only panties and boxers between us, I could feel the heat and hardness of him, while he could no longer doubt my arousal for him. 

His hand moved to cup my cheek, the other to the small of my back to press me more firmly against his chest. We pulled back from our kiss to search one another’s eyes. Looking for any doubt and finding none, Sean slid his hand from the small of my back to my bra clasp. With a flick of his fingers, it was open and I pulled back so he could remove it.

“Ah, Jessa,” he whispered, eyes on my breasts. “You are a gift I will never get tired of unwrapping.” Dipping his head, he latched his mouth on one hard nipple causing my hands to slide into his hair and hold him to me. A little nip on the sensitive skin and I gasped and rocked my hips against him. He moaned against me and soothed the nip with a kiss before treating the twin to the same lavish attention.

“Sean?” I gasped at the second bite, another roll of my hips and he looked up. “I need more.” I bit my lip as he smirked around my nipple. 

“More?” He asked, dragging his mouth away from my chest. “Darlin’, I’m going to need you to be more specific.” His mouth nipped its way up to my neck and found my pulsepoint. Licking against it, making me moan. “What more do you want?”

“You.” I answered, rubbing my growing wetness against his bulge. “Now. Inside me.” I moaned again as he licked lightly up my neck to my ear.

“You wish is my command.” He helped me stand, and slowly pulled my drenched panties down my legs and off my feet. He tossed them onto the bed behind him. 

I shook my head as I looked down at him. Tousled hair, kiss swollen lips, and hard as a rock under his boxers. “Overdressed again.” Biting my lip, I motioned for him to raise his hips as my hands curled around the waist of his boxers. Careful so his length would catch, I pulled them from him, down his legs and found myself once again on my knees before him. Looking up, I saw that he was licking his lips watching me. My mouth watered, this man would be the death of me I swear. “Maybe I should have a taste?” I said, raising an eyebrow. Putting my hand around his shaft, I tested the soft skin. I leaned forward, looking into his eyes as I let my tongue flick against the head. His hands were gripping the covers in a death grip and before I took him into my mouth, I whispered, “I won’t break, Sean, you can touch me.”

As my mouth encircled him, his hands slid into my hair. “Fuck, Jessa.” 

My hand stroked him while I lavished as much attention on his cock as he had on my breasts. Removing my mouth from him with a small ‘pop’. I licked my lips as my hand pumped him. “Are you still alright, Sean?” I asked, biting my lower lip and tilting my head.

“Come here.” His voice was low, his hands moving from my head to my arms and drawing me back to his lap. As my legs straddled him, I moved the hand that was pumping him to help me line him up with my slick opening. I lowered myself down his length. My head felt back as I finally took him all and Sean took full advantage. His mouth found my neck and began kissing. He held my hips in place. “Ready?” He asked, biting my earlobe. I nodded. His hands rocked my hips against him and we shared a moan. “Jesus, Jessa how are you-” I swallowed his words with another kiss. Nipping at his lower lip, we both sighed. 

Suddenly I was on my back, under him. Our kiss broke and his forehead rested on mine. He pulled slightly out and slowly pushed back inside. “Fuck. I’m not sure I can make this last long, baby.” 

I kissed him gently. Pulling back, I smiled and looked deep into his eyes. “Then let’s make it worthwhile.” I arched into him. “Fast and hard, Sean. I don’t need hours.”

Licking into my mouth, he started thrusting. Snapping his hips into mine, his fingers branding the soft skin of my hips as they dug in. We were a mess of moaning. My hands couldn’t decide whether to grasp his head, scrape down his back, or land on his absolutely amazing tight ass. So I did all three. 

Our mouths locked together, he swallowed my scream as I came hard against him, clearly not able to hold back for long either. My walls clenched around him. My nails digging into his hips, marking him as he did me. I felt his thrusting take on a new frantic pace and I moved with him. I pulled my mouth from his, wanting to see him finally come undone, for me. 

Sean’s hand moved from my hip to between our joined bodies. Watching me as I was watching him, his thumb met my sensitive bud and I felt my back arching into him again. My breath came as a gasp. “Got one more for me, darlin’?” He asked. “Come with me, baby.” A few more thrusts and a light pinch on my clit and I screamed his name. “That’s right, Jessa, that’s right.” I clenched around him and he thrust as he came with a moan. 

He held still within me, allowing his orgasm to roll over him and I marveled at his face. As he came down, his forehead met mine and he closed his eyes. Kissing my lips, we pulled back still trying to catch our breath. He opened his eyes and looked into mine. “That was-” 

“Addictive,” I answered, kissing him. “Not sure why I was fighting against that.”

He chuckled and pulled away, only to roll onto his back and pull me to lay on his chest. “Addictive, huh?” Kissing my temple, he smiled. “Do me a favor?”

I glanced up at him. “What’s that?”

“Don’t seek help for that addiction, will you?” He cupped my cheek and kissed me. “Cause I don’t think I can lose you.” I chuckled. “What?”

“This,” I gestured wildly around me. ‘Was a Hell of a lot more satisfying than work.” I kissed his chest and put my head over his heart. 

“Yeah, open heart surgery wouldn’t be nearly as relaxing.” He said with a laugh.

I shook my head. “I feared divine retribution. I had to give it up.” I propped my chin on his chest and looked up at him. “Got rewarded with divine-” He raised an eyebrow. “Shit, can’t think of a word that works.” We broke down in giggles. 

“You’re amazing, Jessa Halmand.” He said stroking my cheek. 

I smiled up at him. “You’re pretty wonderful yourself, Mr. Flanery.”

Smirking down at me, he got a wicked glint in his eyes. “Having you down there on your knees has me having all kinds of thoughts for another time.” 

“Really, what kind of thoughts, Sean?” I asked, still smiling. 

“I wonder how you’d sound calling me ‘sir’?” He said, licking his lips and my leg, resting on his groin felt him twitch. 

“Hmm..” I murmured, pretending to think about it. “Do you want a ‘yes, sir; type of sound.” My voice took on a military sound and I saw him chuckle and shake his head. “Then you’re thinking,” I looked down at his chest and glanced up from under my lashes. My voice went quiet and submissive and I said. “How can I please you, sir?” 

I thought his eyes couldn’t grow darker, but they did. His moan was deep. “That sounds like-” He closed his eyes to calm himself and pulled me up to hold my face and kiss me. “Fuck, that sounds like heaven.” He looked into my eyes and smiled. “What are you doing to me?” 

I raised an eyebrow. “Opening your horizons?” My lip quirked in a half smile.


	3. Chapter 3

I gave Sean more leeway than anyone I’d been with since my divorce. Instead of insisting he go back to his own room after that first night, I let him sleep with me. I gave in to the urge to allow him to curl his body against mine and hold me. I should have kept my distance. I’d called it, he was addictive.

One afternoon, having had another meeting with a studio during breakfast, Sean was out. His boys had a meet of some sort, and since he was due back late evening, I thought I’d prepare a surprise for him. He texted me when he was on his way back, asking if I wanted him to pick me up anything. My answer for what I wanted was one word, and I knew it would get him back fast. “You.” 

When he came in the door, he was greeted by silence. I was waiting inside the closed bedroom, where I knew he’d find me. Sitting on my knees, head bowed, dressed in a midnight blue babydoll nightie with matching panties. God, I hoped he’d appreciate the effort, since this would be a first for me.

“Jessa?” His voice grew closer, and I grew anxious. “Babe, where are you?” The door opened and I heard him breathe in deeply. “Darlin’?” His voice sounded like a cross between a sigh and a moan. 

“Yes, Sir?” I answered, glancing up at him from beneath my lashes. 

“Jesus,” he whispered. Eyes darkened as he took me in, and his tongue flicked across his bottom lip. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Sir?” I asked, trying to keep to an internal script. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” I bit my lip, seeing his hands clench, knowing he was fighting against himself.

Swallowing, he walked to the bed and sat on the end. He crooked his finger at me, urging me to come to him. Fuck, I thought, please don’t let me look as ridiculous as I feel. I crawled slowly to him, careful not to drag my knees, rug burns are a bitch.

At his feet I stopped. I bit my lip again, and looked up at him. “Yes, Sir?” I asked, barely breathing the words.

“Aren’t you a good girl?” He whispered, tracing my face with his fingertips. “What am I gonna do with you?” I licked the pad of his thumb as it swiped across my lips. “Undress me.” Good, I thought, he’s getting into it.

I started at his shirt, unbuttoning it and pulling from his jeans. I slid it from his shoulders and carefully folded it before placing it on the bed beside him. Unbuckling his belt, careful to only undress him, not linger as I’d like, after all he’d only asked me to take off his clothes. I unsnapped his jeans and lowered the zipper. He raised his hips to allow me to pull them down and lower them off his legs. Thank God he’d taken off his shoes before coming to me, I thought. Removing them and folding them like I had the shirt, I placed them on top of it. My hands slid to the waist of his boxers, and he once more lifted up so I could remove this last article of his clothes. They were folded and piled on top of the others. Once finished, I returned to my place on the floor by the bed. 

I felt his hand return to my face. Tilting it up to meet his gaze, he smiled and whispered, “such a good girl.” His voice low, he bit his lip taking the entirety of the picture I presented in. “Is this for me?” His other hand slipped down to finger the spaghetti strap of my lingerie. I nodded. “I’m gonna need you to use your voice, baby, OK?” 

“Yes, Sir.” I sighed, feeling his fingers against my warm skin. 

His fingers remained playing with the tiny strap. “So is this all for me?” 

I bit my lip, shocked at myself for being so damn turned on playing submissive. “Yes.”

“Now, now.” He tsked, pulling his hands away from me. “I don’t think I heard a ‘sir’ in that answer, did I?” 

“No, Sir.” I breathed. His smile nearly took the rest of my breath from me.

“That’s better,” he leaned back on one elbow and crooked that finger of his again. “Come here, baby.”

I crawled onto the bed, carefully staying at his side. “Is this what you want, Sir?” I asked, feeling like I was fighting for each breath.

He shook his head and his hands gripped my arms gently to pull me over his body. “On top of me, darlin’.” Once I was straddling his stomach, he pulled my head down to his. “Let me kiss ya, baby.”

Our lips met and I was certain the roleplay was over. His hands couldn’t decide where to touch, so he touched everything. Sliding down my barely covered back, gripping my ass, and then roaming up my stomach to massage my breasts inside the built in bra. My every moan was captured by his starving mouth, and I hadn’t noticed that my fists were bunched in the blankets on either side of his body.

He pulled his mouth from mine, reluctant, but clearly wanting to appreciate his gift. “Take off your panties.” He held me steady, over top his body, as I complied. “I’m gonna move these outta the way, but this-” His fingers played against the top of my nightie, tugging my breast free of the cups. “Stays on.”

“Yes, Sir.” I answered, gasping at the feel of skin on skin, finally. 

“Say on the bed, but I want you to taste me, baby.” Waiting until I moved off of him, he slid up the bed until he was reclining on the pillows. Angled well for the show, I supposed. I swallowed the rush of lust I felt at seeing him, completely naked on my bed, waiting for me.

“Yes, Sir.” I said with a smirk. He was mine. For today, at least. Since he’d moved further up the bed, I crawled between his legs. 

“No, Jessa.” He patted the bed on the side of him. “I want a good view of you.”

My ass, more like it, I thought. I moved, knowing that he’d have a full view of me alright. Kneeling again, I leaned over to take him in my hand at the base, and then lowered my head to taste the very tip of his hardness. 

That day, from Sean’s own mouth, was one he’d never forget. Nor would I. I’d never chose role-play as one of the sexual misadventures I wanted to try, but with him, anything was possible. I’m fairly certain I’d never do it again. He didn’t take advantage of what I was offering, knowing that it was only going to work if it was mutually pleasurable. And so, he gave as much as he received and because of that it was fucking amazing.

In the end, it would be one of my favorite memories from a very brief time together. Because, even as we relished every moment we spent together, I knew it would be short. What Sean and I had, what we allowed ourselves to pretend would be lasting, was a bubble. A bubble I would eventually have to burst.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is technically complete. Technically because there will be another chapter/story, but that one is less SPF/OFC and more, well I'll let anyone willing to read it see. It's coming soon!

“Sean?” I called, walking into the living room portion of my suite. “You wouldn’t happen to know where all my underwear ran off to, would you?” 

I found him sitting on the sofa, looking way too innocent as he read something on my tablet. “Now why would you think I’d know?” He asked, smirking at the screen.

I crossed my arms over the gorgeous dress I’d bought for the final lunch with the studio I’d picked to adapt my book. The dress flared out at the waist, a throwback to the Leave it to Beaver fashion of the 50s. I’d need panties, commando wasn’t going to work with this dress. “You’re smirking.” I accused. “And I can see the lace hanging out of your pocket.” 

“Come and get ‘em.” He dared. 

I rolled my eyes. “Babe, I don’t have time for this.” I groaned, and it may have come out as a whine. 

He licked his lips. “Doesn’t have to take hours, remember.” Damn him, that voice low and deep, using my own words against me. Shit he was going to ruin me. He tossed my tablet aside, unzipped and unbuttoned his pants, yanked them and his underwear down to his ankles, and crooked that damn finger of his. “Come on, baby, we’re gonna be apart all fuckin’ day. Give me somethin’ to get me through.”

I had no fucking willpower where he was concerned. How else could I explain how I found myself straddling him before making the decision to? Our lips collided and he was filling me with a snap of his hips before either of us could think. Moving together, fast and rough, was just natural. Jesus. This would never get old. His need for me, my want for him. We were quick, but thorough. We came together, with matching moans, and clutching together tighter. As though there wasn’t a close enough. Near enough. 

Pulling apart with a gasping laugh, I asked nicely for what I’d confronted him about. “Can I please have my panties now?” My chest was heaving, and I could feel his cum leaking from me, so when he handed them to me with a chuckle, I stood to go to the bathroom to clean up. He stopped me with a gentle hand on mine. 

“Kinda hoped you’d go like you are.” I raised an eyebrow. Commando wasn’t happening. He stood and started putting himself back together. “I like the idea of you being at lunch smelling like me, like what we just did.” 

Jesus, I knew I’d regret broadening his horizons at some point. What the hell, I thought. It wasn’t like I reeked of him. So I used his shoulder to hold onto while I put the panties in place, effectively stopping the slight leak. 

“Better?” I asked, giving him a smile. He returned it with the smile I was growing to love. “See you tomorrow?” I kissed him as he made his way to the door. He nodded. “Have fun, babe.”

“I’ll definitely have fun with my boys.” He agreed. “Gonna miss ya somethin’ terrible though.” He pressed his forehead to mine while we stood at the door. “Text ya later, ok?” 

I nodded and we finally parted. 

I find myself feeling like I should explain myself. When I said goodbye to him at the door of my hotel suite, I had no idea that it would be the last time I’d see him. The last time I’d see him then, I mean. I didn’t plan on cutting and running. I fully planned on texting with him over the evening while he spent it with his sons. Then when he came back the next day, we’d keep going with what we’d been doing. I never intended for my lunch to make me realize how wrong I was, but what’s that quote about the best laid plans?

Lunch was perfect. I finished the deal with the studio and was sipping a glass of tea as they drank champagne. And that’s when it all came tumbling down. I was finally confronted with the one person I actively tried to keep far from my mind. Karma must have put her directly in my line of sight. A reminder that there were two people in the failed marriage, a reminder that SHE existed. And seeing her, I realized that she was just as miserable as he had been that first night. And that, her looking like she was lost and alone, made me confront what I’d done. What I’d allowed to happen. When I finished my lunch, I knew what I had to do. Something very Jessa. And something I knew he’d see as cowardly.

Sean had texted me during lunch. Sweet little nothings about what they were up to, how much he couldn’t wait until I could meet them, and how much he missed me. I read through them as I waited for the valet to bring my rental around. Jesus he was making this difficult. I steeled myself, knowing he’d expect my lunch to run over. I had the whole day to do what I had to, but doing it fast, like removing a bandage was the way I did it. 

I packed first. Making sure that all my clothes, including the underwear he’d apparently hidden inside my own suitcase, was accounted for. Then I grabbed the rest, toiletries, my electronics, notebooks, even books. Nothing would be left behind. He had a key to my suite, as I had for his, but I knew that when I checked out his wouldn’t work anymore. Finding nothing left behind, and having changed into comfortable travel clothes, I sat down to write the note.

His text came as I picked up the pad of hotel stationary. He was about to take the boys into an animated movie, and the picture showed him beaming at the fun he was having with them. It gave me strength to continue. 

Sean-

That first night, when we were chatting on the sofa in my room, you asked if I’d read your book. I wasn’t lying when I said yes, nor when I said it was good. That book, the running theme that flowed through it, allows me to give you the goodbye you deserve. Mickie’s granddaddy, YOUR granddaddy, gave you the recipe for family boudin. A recipe that I’d bet my life that you followed in finding your wife.

You are a fighter. It’s one of your many defining characteristics. I’m not the fight you need to have. You know the fight you need to win. I’m your BDM-your distraction. And so, I’m removing myself from the equation.

I shouldn’t have given in that first night. That moment of sweet madness made this more difficult than it should be.

I hope, sometime in the distant future, that we can meet again, as friends. It’s a farfetched hope, I admit, but it is one that I will keep close to my heart.

Fight, Sean, for exactly what you found in your granddaddy’s recipe. And if necessary, erase me from your memories entirely.

Jessa

Grabbing my luggage, I stopped briefly outside his door to slide the letter with his spare room key under the door. I knew he’d find it and by then I’d be gone. The hardest part would be staying strong enough to not answer his calls or texts. Because I knew I was right, he was a fighter.


End file.
